Forward
by Rumon Gray
Summary: Being able to reset...sounds like a nice fantasy. The truth is you can only go forward. Always and forever.


_Well your last words were "see you later,"  
Now the violence of love is gone…  
In exchange for a hopeful ending…  
I am liking what you've become…_

–Iris, _Delivered One_

* * *

After a slight struggle with the key, the door to the studio apartment finally opened as the human stepped inside.

He glanced around for a bit, at the mostly empty space occupied with boxes, a computer desk, and the odd recliner he'd been given from a friend. He tossed his backpack off toward the center of the room, catching sight of his bed off to the right. Clothes scattered across the ground, a task to be done later.

Always later.

He turned around and stepped into the bathroom staring at the wall for a moment before turning his attention to the large mirror to his left, that took up almost the entire span. He stared at his own face, at his short brown hair that was just starting to grow out again. Looking at his face until he couldn't quite believe he was an adult...again. He knew what was coming next.

A warmth, from deep within his heart started to blossom, sending comforting waves over the surface of his skin. His reflection began to reveal its true nature, as a figure began to materialize behind him.

White fur.

Blonde hair.

Tall. Fatherly.

"Hey Asgore," the human said with a half-hearted smile.

Asgore's hand rested on the human's reflected shoulder. "Hello young one...Frisk."

Frisk placed a hand on his shoulder, slightly saddened that he couldn't physically feel anything else.

"You've been quiet lately."

Asgore sighed. "I can feel it. Your soul is...heavy. You didn't seem like you wanted to talk."

"Sorry. You've been listening though, I guess it's not fair."

"On the contrary," the monarch smiled, "I like listening to you."

"Well...it's not like you have a choice."

"Sure I do. I can choose not to listen if you'd prefer-"

"No," Frisk interrupted, "no, it's alright. It's...nice."

Asgore gave a short chuckle. "Heh, alright then."

Frisk stepped to the side, glancing at the bathroom doorway before looking back once again at Asgore's face.

"Asgore...why...are you still here?"

"Hmm?"

"...With me? Don't you...don't you want to be...well, wherever souls go when they...leave?"

"Frisk, you've asked me this question so many times."

"I...I know. I'm sorry, I just..."

"You want to...talk about it again?"

The human's eyes fell to the side, showing a mix of embarrassment and guilt.

"I meant it," Asgore affirmed, "when I said that we could be like...a family. Although I wanted it to be different, the circumstances...didn't allow for it. When that flower appeared...I still don't remember the details but..."

Frisk nodded. "I just...ran in and touched your soul. I'd...seen it shatter...before. I had to stop it, so I just..."

"Let me in."

"Yeah."

Asgore's reflection patted the human's shoulder again. "And I watched you fight that awful creature, and you won! And it only got better from there. We left the Underground, you got back into school...you really kept yourself together, despite...well, everything."

"Thanks."

"Frisk, listen. I know you're hard on yourself for leaving, but...well, time only flows in one direction. There's nothing you could've done, no way to go back and change things, as much as you wish you could."

"But I could! I...I've had these strange feelings of being able to just...do things over again! We got to the end together, Papyrus, Sans, Undyne, Alphys, Toriel..."

Asgore sighed. "And where was I?"

"You were...you were..."

Frisk sniffled a bit as he held his hand on his chest.

"You were...in here."

"And not out there with the rest. Frisk...you and I both know those were just dreams."

"But they felt..."

"Real, I know. Your therapist told you...us...that this is a symptom of your problems, remember? Wishful thinking, he called it? Also a few other terms, like cognitive distortion...you're hung up on what you _want_ to believe, instead of what really happened."

"I...I can't let it go. It's so real to me!"

"I know, that's why we're still going to see him. You're getting better though. You really are."

"...Asgore, what if..."

A second hand rested on the other shoulder. Asgore closed his eyes, he'd heard these words before.

"What if you're not real either?"

A deep breath from a very large creature.

"Frisk, hold out your hand."

The human did so, stretching his right arm out to the side, holding his palm up. Asgore's reflection stepped forward a bit, looking like he was standing "inside" of Frisk, like a ghost, although he was considerably taller. He also held out his right arm, having to lower it a bit. His hand matched up with Frisk's, almost as if it were holding it.

"Now concentrate."

Frisk had been here before as well. Years of dealing with his soul's..."roommate" evoked the familiar motions, the feelings he'd have to channel, the feelings he _wanted_ at this particular moment.

It started in his chest.

A flicker.

Slowly, it started to gently burn, reaching his shoulder. It smoldered down, past his elbow, before reaching his hand, where it began to gather a form.

A blaze.

A small speck of light appeared in the center of his palm, spreading all the way out to the tips of his fingers. A flame, radiating a tender, serene level of heat rose up into the air, crackling quietly, while not giving off a single wisp of smoke.

"Now turn off the light," Asgore suggested.

Frisk flicked the switch with his left hand, bringing the flame in front of him. The light it gave off flickered, causing shadows to play on the walls of the bathroom. He turned away from the mirror for a moment, gazing at the tiny flare in his hand and accepting that it was real, not just a trick his mind played upon gazing at his own reflection.

His mind eased.

Frisk turned back to the mirror again, misty eyes meeting Asgore's as he smiled.

"Real enough?" The king asked.

Frisk didn't say anything, closing his hand to smother the flame. He reached for the wall switch again, its fluorescent bulb blasting its light back into the bathroom.

"Here's a question I haven't actually asked you before," Asgore cleared his throat, "...why are you letting me stay?"

"Letting you?"

"Frisk...you could let me go at any time. If you wanted, you could just...force me out. I know you've felt it before."

"I..."

The human's shoulders began to shudder. Ghost hands didn't really have the physical impact needed to brace them.

"Asgore, I..."

The monarch said nothing.

"My friends, they're..."

Still nothing.

"They're all moving on without me. Going to college, getting better jobs, while I'm just...stuck here. I mean I'm doing fine in school too but I mean...is it what I really want? I'm scared. I'm scared and lonely and I don't know what to do and..."

Silence. Mournful silence.

"...and I miss everybody in the Underground. Every time I get a text from Sans, it's just not long enough. Every time I catch a glimpse of Papyrus' name I just want to hear his voice. I flip through the channels and hope to god I can just watch a tiny bit of Mettaton's show."

"They're still there, you know."

A startled gasp.

"...yeah. I know. But it's been a few years, and I..."

"Frisk. You don't think they forgot you...do you?"

"I..."

Asgore gave another deep breath. "Frisk. They're your _friends,_ and they're not going to forget you just like that. They probably miss you, they want to see you! And I know you want to see them too! ... _I_ want to see them."

"But I haven't gotten any closer to figuring out how to destroy the barrier!"

The monarch's face was transfixed into a stunned gaze. Years of residing deep within the very fabrication of Frisk's being, and he never once felt even an _inkling_ that Frisk was trying so hard to figure out how to solve his kingdom's problem.

He thought back and began to see the signs. The strong, passionate studies of all the various fields of science. An interest in ancient history, even archaeology. The extra-curricular classes in the many different subjects of mythology, even getting into the different theological studies.

Frisk never graduated college because he kept shifting majors.

Frisk was trying to find some kind of magic key to unlock the barrier.

But human history was always all too eager to hide their mistakes.

"Frisk. You don't have to open the barrier."

Another gasp, like a dagger had been removed from his heart.

Asgore's reflection stepped back again, and wrapped his incorporeal arms around the human.

"You just need to keep being Frisk. Nobody wants you to be anything more. Stay determined."

"But..."

"Frisk, what do you think the others would say...if they knew?"

"I don't..."

"I do."

Another hush fell for a second, before inspiration struck across Asgore's eyes.

"...Let's go ask them."

"What?!"

"Frisk, let's go ask them. About you breaking the barrier, see what they say!"

"You...want to go visit? But it's pretty far..."

"Exactly. The trip will take awhile, especially by bus, but...I think it'll give you the time you need to gather yourself, get yourself in order before seeing them again. We can talk the entire trip, if you'd like."

The human looked into Asgore's eyes again, finally exchanging a smile before leaving the bathroom. Sitting down at his computer, he switched it on, booting up the browser. He searched for the bus fares and schedules, in a state of almost excessive drive.

The mouse pointer halted for a second.

"...the entire trip?"

"Mm-hmm," Asgore's voice hummed from within.

Frisk lifted his hand off of the mouse, placing it on his chest again, smiling.

"I'd...like that."

"Me too."

Two lonely souls weaved together, desperately clinging to the moment.

Always moving forward, into the uncertain future.


End file.
